


Kindred Spirits

by Vyola



Series: Vyola's Sentinel Stories [4]
Category: Highlander: The Series, The Sentinel
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-03-04
Updated: 1997-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyola/pseuds/Vyola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mix-up by a mail order bookstore leads a tall handsome stranger to the loft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindred Spirits

"Aw, man! The bookstore screwed up the order." Blair Sandburg dropped the dusty volume on the table in disgust. He pawed through the discarded wrapping paper for the invoice. 

"What's the problem, Chief?" 

"I was expecting a book about a tribe in the South Pacific -- one of those little islands that lost it's cultural identity for good during World War II -- it seems that every generation they used to hold some sort of competition to choose a champion for the tribe. I thought that it sounded an awful lot like the competition was actually a search for someone with Sentinel senses. So I put in an order for this book I'd heard of by a missionary to the island in the late eighteen hundreds and last week they called me and said they'd finally found a copy and would send it right away. Instead I get this!" Exasperated, he grabbed the offending book. "I can't even read it! It looks like it's handwritten and I have no idea what language it's in.....there's ideograms and some Greek symbols and I don't know what else -- maybe even Linear B!" 

"Linear B? Sounds like a computer." It was too early for Jim to work up much interest in another of Blair's tirades. Sometimes it seemed to him that the younger man spent his time on an emotional roller coaster, swinging from one extreme to another. 

"Nah, it's actually Ancient Minoan but it's only partially understood. I mean, I'm sure this is a valuable book and *somebody* wanted it but *my* book is out there somewhere and I want it!" 

"So call the bookstore and find out where this was supposed to go and that's probably where yours is now. I'm sure it was just a mix- up in addresses." 

"Yeah, but I really wanted that book, man. Now I'm all bummed and it's going to take forever to get it back. This store does business all over the world and my book could be anywhere by now." 

For the rest of the week, Blair kept intending to call the shop but it seemed that circumstances were conspiring against him. First he had to take over a lecture series for a professor suddenly out with the flu, then he spent several evenings on a fruitless stakeout with Jim, then he found himself grading an seemingly endless pile of exams. He didn't have a spare second to himself until the next weekend, when Jim *finally* departed for a seminar in Vancouver. '"Law Enforcement and International Cooperation." Thank god *I* didn't have to go!' Blair congratulated himself. 

He'd just settled down on the couch, a cup of tea at his side and a new copy of 'The Journal of Comparative Cultures' in his hands when he heard a sharp rap on the door. 

'Of course. Jim leaves and *I* get the door-to-door salesmen interrupting me. Figures.' 

Blair opened the door, expecting anything from a team of clean-cut Mormon missionaries to a cute little Girl Scout hawking cookies. What he got was a tall man with dark, opaque eyes and dark hair cut almost as short as Jim's. The stranger wore a bulky, baggy fisherman's sweater, black jeans and a well-worn trenchcoat. At his feet lay a canvas duffel. In his hand was a small book. 

"My name is Adam Pierson," the man said, lounging indolently against the door frame. "I believe you have something of mine."  
  


* * *

  


'Well, well, well. What *do* we have here?' Methos asked himself. He'd been furious when he'd discovered the bookshop's mistake. To have one of his lost journals almost in his hands and then to have it snatched away, sent to someone who had no idea of it's true importance.....Mild-mannered Adam Pierson had found it difficult to be civil with the disembodied voice on the other end of the telephone line. Only learning that one 'Blair Sandburg', now in possession of a unique document well over 4,000 years old and surely insensible of the honor, was only as far away as Cascade stayed his temper. He elected to make the trip himself rather than trust the store and the mails again. 

Now it seemed that his impatience was being rewarded. The beautiful boy looking up at him was a visual treat indeed. Long curly hair framed a face dominated by broad cheekbones and smoky blue eyes. What had Lycurgus always said? Oh, yes. '"Long hair makes good-looking men more beautiful, and ill-looking men more terrible." I'll drink to that,' he thought, smiling a bit at the thought of another long mane. 

Blair suddenly realized that he was staring. "I'm sorry. I'm Blair Sandburg. Please, come in." He gestured Pierson into the loft and watched the other man pick up the duffel and enter. 'He moves like a cat, all sleek and commanding.' "I realized that I got the wrong book but I'm afraid I just hadn't gotten around to calling the shop to find out where mine was. I hope you haven't made a long trip." 

"Never fear. I was just down the road a bit in Seacouver. We're practically neighbors." He prowled about the room, again reminding Blair of a big cat. The view from the balcony windows caught his eye and he paused, looking out at the ocean. "Great place you've got here." 

"Thanks. It has it's good points. Oh, hey," Blair headed over to the table. "Here's your book. Once I realized it wasn't mine I stopped handling it much. Just how old is it?" he asked as handed it to Pierson, taking his own book in return. 

"Um, pretty old," Pierson answered absently as he cradled the book in his left hand and gently paged through it with his right. Everything seemed in order, he thought. Closing the book, he cast a sideways glance at Sandburg. "What's so interesting about a missionary and a little island no one's ever heard of?" 

"Ah, just a little research -- I'm working on an anthropology thesis." The two men stood looking at each other, holding their books and their secrets tightly. Blair broke the silence first. 

"Thanks for bringing this to me. I really appreciate it." 

"Don't mention it. I guess I'd better get going. I've a bit of a drive ahead of me." Methos really didn't want to leave and it showed in his voice. Blair picked up on it immediately. 

"It's still early, man. Have you eaten yet? I know a great little grill not far from here -- let me buy you dinner. Consider it a thank-you." A pleading gaze that Jim would have classified as 'Blair's puppy-dog look' accompanied the suggestion. 

"Great. How's their beer?"  
  


* * *

  


They found themselves lingering over dinner, discussing the world. Methos admitted to himself that it was exhilarating to see through Blair's eyes -- he was so energetic, so curious! It never ceased to amaze him how full some mortals could make their lives. They had so little time and so many seemed to waste what they had. But Blair could be the poster boy for 'carpe diem'. It was an attitude that Methos heartily approved of, though he didn't practice it himself. 'Too many pots to stir and season,' he mused. 

For Blair, it was like finding a kindred spirit. Adam had traveled even more widely than Blair had and he was a perceptive observer of human nature. The discussion ranged from the Bushmen of the Kalahari to the Aborigines of the Outback, from ancient Egypt to the Internet, and it never missed a beat. Everything Adam had to say was interesting, but Blair discovered a bonus. 'God, I could listen to him recite the phone book with that voice. It's like being stroked with velvet in the dark.' He blushed as he realized where his thoughts were leading. 

Methos looked at him questioningly. The flush on Blair's face was very attractive. And intriguing. 

Unsettled, Blair glanced at the clock on the wall. "Hey, man, I didn't realize it was getting so late. Listen, you don't want to make that drive back to Seacouver tonight. My partner's out of town so there's plenty of room and it's no inconvenience -- why don't you just crash at the loft tonight?" 

"If you're sure it wouldn't be a problem --" 

"Nah, Jim wouldn't mind. After all, he lets me stay!" 

As they grabbed they grabbed their coats and paid the bill, Adam asked, "What do you mean?" 

"It's a long story. The bare bones are that the place I was renting a couple of years ago was also being used as a drug lab by these bad guys and it sort of blew up. So I just moved in with Jim temporarily and, well, we seemed to get along pretty well and he's never asked me to leave." 

"Sounds like a good friend." Driving back to Blair's, Methos laughed a little. "Sounds a little like a friend of mine. I did him a favor once and jokingly told him that he owed me a place to live. Ever since then I've crashed at his place whenever I get the chance and he's never really objected." 

They quickly arrived at their destination and Blair led the way inside. As Methos entered, he heard Sandburg say, 'Mi casa es su casa." He stiffened for a moment, then a breathtaking smile overtook his face. "One of my favorite expressions." 

Blair disappeared upstairs for a moment, returning with a pillow and a blanket. "Tell me about this friend of yours. I assume he lives in Seacouver?" He dropped the bedding on the couch. 

"Most of the time. Let's see, how to describe Duncan MacLeod? Sometimes I think he's the world's oldest Boy Scout. And sometimes he's a real pain in the ass. But most of the time he's a good friend. Probably the best friend I've ever had." He looked down for a moment, his eyelashes veiling his expression. "I'm a very self-centered person; the kind of life I've lived has encouraged it. There have been very few people I've cared about and even fewer that I'd be willing to die for. Duncan is one of them." 

Very quietly, Blair said, "Does he know you're in love with him?" 

"You know, most people find me difficult to read. And I *never* volunteer personal information." Methos smiled a little sheepishly. "You have a disconcerting effect on me, Blair Sandburg." 

"Maybe it's because we recognize something in each other. I could give you that same description of someone in my life." 

"Your partner." It was a statement, not a question. Methos had seen the way Blair's face lit up whenever he spoke of Jim. 

"Yeah." 

"And he's as oblivious as Duncan, I assume." 

"Oh, yeah." Blair shrugged his shoulders and gave a self-conscious sigh. "Stupid of me, I know. Mooning over the straightest guy I've ever met." 

"It happens. It's not the package, it's what's inside that matters. A lot of people never realize that." He walked over to Blair, now standing by the windows, and put a hand on his shoulder. Looking down at that exotic, young face, he said softly, "Blair, I might be out of line here, but I didn't think you invited me to stay the night just to talk about our bad luck in love. I had hoped that you were interested in sharing the night with me, not with thoughts of other people." 

Taking courage from the warm touch and the intense eyes that held his gaze, Blair whispered, "No, when I asked you to stay, I wasn't thinking about anyone but you."  
  


* * *

  


Never taking his eyes from Blair's, Methos bent his head and pressed his lips against Blair's mouth. He nipped at the full lower lip and ran his tongue along it until Blair moaned and opened his mouth, letting Methos inside. He explored the contours of teeth and tongue, stroking along the soft tissues in a slow, sure rhythm. 

Blair wrapped one arm around Adam's waist and snaked his other hand up to the back of his head, pulling their bodies tight together. The short, dark hair tickled his fingers, so much softer than it looked to the eye. Splaying his fingers wide at the bottom of Adam's sweater, he pushed it up and made contact with the hot skin beneath. A shudder ran though the taller man, who signified his approval by bringing his hands to the front of Blair's flannel shirt and swiftly unbuttoning it. Blair reluctantly dropped his arms so that Adam could push the shirt off, then pulled the t-shirt underneath over his head. Adam took the opportunity to rid himself of his sweater as well. 

They came together again, skin on skin, and two sighs filled the dimly lit room. Blair ran his hands up Adam's back, tracing the sleek lines and well-defined muscles that the bulky clothing had hidden. Adam's strength was apparent only now, as his fair, smooth skin served to accentuate the play of muscle in the long arms that wrapped around Blair. 

Methos stroked from Blair's shoulders to his waist, bringing his hands up to the springy chest hair and seeking out the tight nipples hidden there. He teased them to aching hardness, enjoying the little whispers of encouragement issuing from Blair's lips. He tangled one hand in Blair's long curls and wrapped the other around his waist, bending Blair back against his arm. Dropping his head, he began to leisurely lick his way from Blair's jawline to his collarbone to his nipples. He licked first one, then the other, then bestowed a sharp nip on one, easily holding Blair as the young man shuddered in reaction. Methos sucked the abused nipple gently, transforming the small pain into a deeper pleasure. 

Blair found it hard to stand and finally his knees buckled, forcing them both to the floor. Adam pushed him onto his back and deftly unbuttoned Blair's jeans, then removed them and the boxers he wore. Blair watched with hot eyes as Adam stood up, looming over him, and stripped off his own jeans and briefs. As soon as Adam dropped to his knees again, Blair was reaching up for his shoulders and pulling Adam down to cover him completely. 

For a moment, they remained still, feeling their bodies align, Blair's legs slightly spread to welcome Adam's between them. Two hard cocks pulsed against each other, impatient for more. Blair raised his head slightly and captured Adam's mouth with his, thrusting his tongue deep inside. The kiss stretched on endlessly as they lay there, Blair's arms loosely around Adam's back, Adam's hands cradling Blair's face. 

With a moan of hunger, Methos pulled his mouth from Blair's and kissed his way down the body offered to him. A nibble along the pulse fluttering so rapidly in Blair's neck. A chain of kisses along the ridge of his collarbone. Long swipes of a flat tongue over the plane of his abdomen, dipping into his navel. A whisper of hot breath in the crease between hip and leg. 

Every inch of Blair's skin was sensitized, anticipating the next touch of Adam's lips and tongue. He moved restlessly, hard cold floor under him, hard warm body over him. His hands clutched helplessly at Adam's head and shoulders as he tried to direct that tormenting mouth where he needed it the most. "Please, Adam," he begged. 

A self-mocking smile curved Methos' lips. How sweet it was to hear a lover's pleas, yet not to hear his true name was a taste of bitter with the sweet. Untold years of restraint allowed him to push the regret aside. Adam Pierson *was* him, just not all of him. And only Adam Pierson could be here now, touching Blair, loving him. 

He lifted his head and looked up at Blair. The young man lay spread out under him, every muscle tense. Methos ran one hand along Blair's hip, regarding his own fairness against Blair's darker complexion. "Is this what you want, Blair?" he murmured, letting his breath warm the hard cock pressing up at him. "Is this what you need?" He pressed his lips along the underside of the shaft, his tongue slipping out to tease the crown. 

Blair groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily, as Adam's voice washed over him. He could feel his cock being drawn into Adam's warm, wet mouth, could feel Adam's cheeks hollow as he began to suck him in, deeper and deeper. Blair spread his legs wider, urging Adam to take him fully. 

Methos slipped his hand between Blair's legs and gently massaged his balls. He cupped them loosely, then more firmly, in counterpoint to the rise and fall of his mouth on Blair. He felt them as they began to draw up, signaling the approaching climax. He redoubled his efforts to take Blair's entire length, opening his throat and letting Blair thrust upward again and again. Methos tasted the tang of pre-ejaculate as it seeped from the tip of Blair's cock, then felt the pulse of orgasm overtake the man beneath him. 

All Blair could feel was the heat of Adam's mouth as he lost himself in sensation. His hands tightened on Adam's shoulder and head and he pulled Adam down tightly as he came in hot waves, feeling the tension that gripped his body suddenly give way to release. 

Methos kept Blair in his mouth until he was totally spent, his hands stroking Blair's flanks. When Blair finally stopped shuddering, Methos moved upwards to claim his mouth in a deep kiss, letting Blair taste himself on Methos' lips and tongue. 

Blair felt Adam's erection press into his stomach as Adam lay atop him again. He smiled, pulling his head back to look into Adam's dark eyes. "That was wonderful. But now I think it's time I made you feel just as good."  
  


* * *

  


Blair pushed Adam gently to the side and got to his feet. He grinned down, saying, "Don't move a muscle, man. I'll be right back." He headed through the french doors concealing his room and dug into his bedside table. 

Methos approvingly regarded the lovely view presented to him coming and going as Blair quickly returned, carrying a few items in his hand. The boy wasn't as slight as he looked clothed; his shoulders were quite broad and his torso well-defined. It must be the combination of his height and general youthful exuberance that created the impression that he needed to be taken in hand, cosseted and protected. He had a suspicion that Blair knew how people reacted to him and used it to his advantage. Not that Methos blamed him; he himself was a past master of letting others underestimate him. Even Duncan had a picture of 'real' Methos that lacked some crucial details....... 

"Party favors?" Methos asked as he recognized what Blair had retrieved. 

"Those Boy Scouts have a good motto." He dropped the condoms and the tube of lubrication into Adam's hand, then knelt next to him. He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss on Adam's open mouth. 

"Mmmmm.....I'm all for being prepared. But if you'd rather forego them, I can assure you I'm safe as houses." Methos knew there was no danger ahead for either of them, but was willing to take precautions if Blair felt the need. 

Blair lifted his head and looked into Adam's eyes. Whatever he was looking for seemed to reassure him. "I don't know why, but I believe you. And it's a little late now, but I can tell you the same thing." He watched Adam toss the condoms aside and open up the lube. 

"In that case, my dear Blair, why don't we get back to what we started?" 

A cool, slick hand surrounded Blair's cock, stroking the lube over and around his shaft. Methos took his time, tracing every vein, circling the crown, measuring the length and girth until Blair knew that another second would be too much. 

"God, Adam!" He pushed Adam's hand away, shuddering. "This time's for you, too." He scooted back, gesturing for Adam to roll over onto hands and knees. He caressed the long line of back and buttocks, gradually coming closer to the cleft of Adam's ass. 

He grabbed the tube from where it had fallen and applied the lube to his hand. Leaning over Adam's back and kissing his back and shoulder, Blair traced one slick finger between Adam's buttocks. 

The feeling of coolness struck Methos first, then the sensation of penetration as Blair insinuated the tip of his finger into Methos' ass. The tight opening at first resisted, then opened slightly to allow Blair to stroke in and out. Methos hissed, pushing his hips back towards Blair's hand, feeling Blair's long curls drape over his back as he crouched over him. The silken tresses were little lashes against his sensitized skin. For a moment, he could almost pretend...... 

Blair nuzzled under Adam's ear, nipping at the tender lobe. Adam's short hair rubbed against his cheek like the fur of a black panther. If he shut his eyes, he might almost imagine..... 

As one, a shudder passed through them, and a shared thought. 'No, he deserves better than that. *I* deserve better than that.' 

"Blair....." 

"Adam....." 

They reassured themselves that they knew who they were touching. "Blair. More. I need to feel you inside me." The whispered plea lured Blair into adding another finger as he continued to finger-fuck Adam, then another. He continued to stretch the tender passage, readying Adam for a more complete possession. 

When Adam's thrust backwards took on a frantic edge, Blair carefully removed his hand. "I'll be inside you in just a minute," he soothed Adam's moan of regret. He guided his cock to the prepared opening. "Relax, Adam. I'm going to take you now. Just relax and let me fill you up." He pushed forward in one slow, steady thrust. 

With a sob, Methos jerked his hips back, taking Blair by surprise. He felt the crisp hair at the base of Blair's cock brush his ass as they paused for a heartbeat, absorbed by the connection they now shared. 

Methos threw his head back, arching his neck, inviting Blair to drop his own head into the dip between neck and shoulder. He felt Blair's open mouth, hot and wet, as he took little love bites, then sucked the reddened skin. 

Blair leaned heavily into Adam, his hips working forward and back, almost pulling out then sinking in to the hilt. His cock was gripped by Adam's tight ass as he in turn gripped Adam's cock in his still- slick hand. Their rhythms melded and words were lost. 

A duet of half-choked sobs and sighing moans filled the loft, as Methos felt himself filled, surrounded, totally engulfed by Blair. He pushed back, impaling himself on Blair's cock, then thrust forward, letting Blair's hand caress his length. The sensation was irresistible and the climax took him by storm, Blair's hand stroking him as the shudders claimed his body. 

The contractions of Adam's ass around his hard cock were too much for Blair, who followed Adam into orgasm. He muffled the scream that tried to escape him by biting at Adam's neck right where it met the shoulder. Behind his closed eyes, he could almost see tiny bolts of lightning as he came in hot spurts. 

Methos' head fell forward and he almost toppled under the suddenly dead-weight of Blair's body. Blair slowly pulled out of him and they dropped to the floor in an exhausted heap. 

Blair roused himself enough to crawl over to the sofa and pull off the afghan draped across the back. Spreading it over Adam's body, he ducked under it as well and found himself cradled in Adam's arms. Tucking his head under Adam's head, he allowed the measured sound of the other man's breathing to lull him to sleep.  
  


* * *

  


The sun through the windows finally woke Methos, who looked down to find Blair still cradled in his arms. He studied the relaxed face, quiet now in sleep. The man's youth and long hair had mislead Methos a little. Blair was nothing like Duncan. In truth, Blair was much more like Methos himself. A quicksilver intellect, darting from idea to idea, always seeking more information. A teller of tales, whether out of necessity or sheer pleasure. An observer, drawn into events only reluctantly. Prodded onto the straight and narrow by the men they secretly loved. 

Blair stirred, stretching a little as he came awake. He smiled up at Adam, who looked appealingly rumpled after the night they had spent. He groaned a little, stiff from sleeping on the floor and the unaccustomed exercise. 

"You're telling me," Methos said. "Ah, I'm too old for a wild romp on a hard floor." He sat up and ran a hand through his short hair. He leaned down and kissed Blair's forehead. "Good morning, Mr. Sandburg." 

"And good morning to you, Mr. Pierson. Perhaps you're just out of practice. God knows I am," he replied, grinning. 

"Aches in places you'd forgotten existed, hmmm?" Methos continued to nuzzle his way down Blair's cheek and under his chin. 

"Yeah, mmmm." Blair draped an arm over Adam's shoulder, bringing him down against his chest. "You're either making promises you don't intend to keep or you're not that old." 

Their bodies adjusted, aligning chests and legs smoothly together. Methos felt his cock harden as he rubbed against Blair's, a slow, steady rocking as they kissed and talked. "I *never* make a promise I can't keep. That's why I don't promise much." 

"I'll be sure to remember that." 

They lazily aroused each other, the urgency of the night before gone. The morning was for teasing kisses and hushed words. 

Blair reveled in the sense of comfort, the joy of being held. It had been so long since he had been close, really close to another person, in any intimate way. Two years of living with Jim had taken their toll. He'd hidden so much, pushed so many needs aside. He hadn't even had anyone in whom to confide his growing feelings for his partner. Finding Adam, a man who seemed to instinctively understand and empathize with his situation, was an unexpected gift. He wondered just how alike this Duncan and Jim really were. Was Duncan bound by a code of honor that sometimes bewildered Adam? Did Adam just 'go with the flow' and infuriate his friend sometimes? Was Duncan the same mixture of experience and innocence that drove Blair up the wall when he faced it in Jim? Blair tightened his arms around Adam and moved with more urgency. 

Their cocks rubbed against each other, hot flesh rapidly dampening with arousal, the smell of semen from the night before still hanging in the air. Methos braced his hands on the floor beside Blair's head and thrust downwards in earnest. Blair palmed his ass and pulled him down hard, pushing his own hips up. 

A moment later, they came, Methos first, the feel of his hot seed puddling on Blair's stomach and thighs triggering Blair's own climax. They lay together, breathing heavily, watching the track of the sunbeams against the floor and wall.  
  


* * *

  


Eventually, they had to get up. Blair generously offered the shower to Adam, resigning himself to cold water afterward. Adam proved to have a deft hand at the stove, dishing up an omelet just as Blair emerged from his room, scrubbed and clothed. Adam was wearing the same clothes he had arrived in; they were wrinkled but presentable. 

The morning passed in companionable silence, only disturbed by the rustle of the paper and the clink of tableware. They lingered over the clean-up, enjoying a game of surreptitious caresses and cuddles. Early in the afternoon, they raided the kitchen again, finding enough leftovers to avoid cooking. 

Finally, Methos sighed. "It's getting late. I'm going to have to be getting on my way." 

"I guess so." They stood and made busy for a few minutes, tracking down his coat and duffel, making sure that the errant volume was safely stowed away. 

They stood at the door, good-byes made but feeling that there was more to be said. 

"Uh, Adam....this weekend...." Blair found himself at a loss for words, a rare state indeed. 

"Yeah, I know." Methos' voice was soft. "It was -- *you* are -- very special, Blair. Look, there's a bar in Seacouver. Joe's. Got a reputation for good beer and good blues. Here's the address." He looked about for a bit of paper and a pen, found them and scribbled a few lines. Handing the scrap to Blair, he continued, "The owner's a friend of mine, Joe Dawson. If you're ever in the neighborhood, stop by. Joe can probably get a hold of me for you and at the very least you'll have a great time at the bar." 

"Thanks, man. And if you're ever in Cascade.....if you want to get together, get a bite to eat or just talk.....please, give me a call." Blair's expression was intent, conveying his earnestness. 

"I will. Blair, let me say just one thing. Life is short and regrets are hell. If you really care about Jim, you should talk to him. Nothing's worse than the 'what ifs' and 'if onlys'." 

"I'll give it some thought." He grinned. "How about you, man? Why don't you talk to this Duncan guy? You're not going to live forever, either, you know." 

Methos looked down at the floor for a second, his voice low. "No, I suppose not." Then he looked up into Blair's eyes and smiled the full smile that lit up his whole face. "But who wants to live forever, anyway?"  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Looking back at this 15+ years later -- it's godawful but I'm pretty sure it was one of the first Sentinel/Highlander xo's out there (definitely the first on SENAD) so, um... go, me? :D


End file.
